#mostly bc i thought i was a fucking freak

[anotherpapercut]

unrelated to anything at all but as a kid I was soo so appreciative of shows about kids where at least one of them only had 1 parent. I wish every show with parents would add at least one single parent

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[girlspecimen]

i actually got a new bc scrip like this year or the year b4 for non sex reasons (period pain and pms) but i haven’t been taking it cuz the first time i took it i threw up and that made me scared

[smallboyonherbike]

🖤📞✔️⚫️🏴‍☠️

[trans-leek-cookie]

im thinking abt cozy horror bc. Post. Anyways it's interesting cause initially I kinda get the idea? Bc a fascination I've had is like... Casual? Body horror. Idk if casual is the correct word, but stuff generally considered to be body horror that isn't painful. But that on its own is more down to singular things- like, body horror is more often a single piece of art, or a single aspect of a larger horror. It's a different form of horror than horror as a genre in a way (like transformation horror- there can be a single piece of art or character who's half animal or something, but when in a larger horror it comes down to the sensation of it and portraying that rather than simply the visual aspect) I'm losing track of this so I'll say Body Horror is more of a visual medium and style which describes the body existing or being changed unnaturally, and while it can be and often is used in the Horror Genre (as in stories) it is also used on it's own for purposes more Aesthetic than Horrifying (not exclusive, but there's body horror I want to be Uncomfortable vs just Interesting Visuals/Sensations) ANYWAY. Trying to get back on track. Body Horror is obviously common in horror but I'd also argue sometimes is just an Art Genre that isn't mean to be As Upsetting as Horror as a Genre. Which gives room to body horror that is casual or normal or whatever, and in some cases is only horror due to the majority of ppl being uncomfortable with it, when the creator might not be aiming for it to be Upsetting. I got distracted anyways I thought for a sec I got what cozy horror like, was, but then it broke my brain and. WTF do ppl even mean by cozy horror

[midniiights-garden]

Mizu realising she's in love/a lesbian [Headcanons!!]

(A/N: I feel like this is like... already a given but please remember that these are HEADCANONS!! She does not have a canon sexuality. And I know it's mostly the lesbians who haven taken over the show but my content is available for everyone to see and I wanted to remind everyone that I am not going to tolerate slander or trash talking because of a personal opinion. You are entitled to your thoughts and I am entitled to mine.)

Possible TWs!!: Mentions of sex and sexual encounters, M*kio (you cannot stop me from putting this man as a warning I hate him sm), Canon typical violence, Racisim, Homophobia, Mysogyny (did I spell that right??)

Firstly I wanna address her relationship with Mikio in order to fully understand my headcanons.

Personally I do not believe that Mizu actually "loved" Mikio in the romantic sense. She thought she was in love, but in the end it wasn't.

Speaking as someone with a lot of personal trauma regarding relationships myself I realised that I couldn't differentiate between romantic and platonic love. Basically, for me, all I saw was that someone was treating me nicely for once and now I'm attached to them. And for the longest time I thought that was what love was.

And I think Mizu experienced something similar.

Basically, when Mikio treated her like a fucking human being she was like "oh, hey this is nice. This is weird, but it's nice. So I guess I'm in love, right?"

Like, no, baby. You aren't. That's just called emotional trauma.

That's also why she thought she was straight for the longest time because she genuinely cannot tell when she likes someone romantically.

As I often restate it'll take a while for her to fully understand the extent of her emotions, but she'll get there.

Now onto the fluffier stuff :))

~~~

How does she realise she's in love? What's her reaction to it?

I think she gets hit with the realisation as if it were a train crashing into her.

It's just a normal evening, she's probably at a ramen shop with her future S/O with her and then as she's taking a bite of her ramen she looks over at you and thinks: "Huh... I wonder what it would be like if I got to hold them?"

And then it's just a record scratch moment for her where she's like wtf where did that come from.

It's either just normal domestic moment like I mentioned or her future S/O sparring with her (which may or not freak her out bc of the fucking Mikio incident).

But when Mizu successfully pins her S/O down they just laugh and smile, knowing Mizu would never hurt them on purpose.

That made Mizu's heart flutter more than anything Mikio had ever done for her.

She's going to be in denial about it for a long time. Like... a really, really long time. Cue the "but we're just friends"!

How does she react when she realises she's into girls?

Due to the internalized homophobia instilled within her as a child and other such thoughts she starts to think she may be going crazy.

She'll start to pull away out of fear, not truly understanding her emotions.

Which, of course, will hurt her future S/O and cause them to worry.

Seeing her future S/O so distraught kind of triggers something in her. She realises that there's nothing inherently wrong with her, that she's still a person and the person she likes is still a person and that there shouldn't be anything wrong with liking her S/O. She also just didn't like seeing you worry over her, it hurt her more than any blade that she's been stabbed with.

Now onto her actual physical attraction.

Once the whole emotional side of it is somewhat sorted in her mind she finds herself not so subtly staring at her S/O's tatas.

She doesn't strike me as someone with high libido or anything despite what I've seen a lot of headcanons say. But I think shes the kind of lover to enjoy getting her S/O off a lottttt

I don't believe she was ever really attracted to Mikio sexually but seeing her S/O's kimono slip off their shoulder to reveal some titty has her red and hot.

She likes that it's soft. She really likes the softness of her S/O's body.

~~~

(A/N: That's all!! I feel like I was terribly self-indulgent with this one but there are a lot of aspects in which I relate to Mizu with. Which is probably why I care a lot about representing her correctly. As usual, feel free to comment or send asks to my inbox!! I hope y'all enjoyed <33)

[jwonsite]

thoughts on kinks that jungwon has?

literally am GIGGLINGGG at this ask omg

breath play: i SO MFING STRONGLY BELIEVEEE that won would love having control of when you breath 💔 he loves knowing that you trust him enough to let him do that and indulges in it soooo freaking much. he will almost always have his hand around your neck squeezing just enough to restrict your air supply. also ties into my head pusher won agenda cuz he 100 percent pushes your head down onto his dick when youre giving him head to see how long u can last without air :(( i could also see him using a pillow to muffle your sounds/moans if you guys are fucking while the other members are home

size kink: oh my goodness he literally goes insane. this mostly goes for if you are shorter than him,, bc he would just love seeing how small you are compared to him. esp since hes already one of the shortest ones in enha, seeing how youre even smaller than him makes him go insaneeee. loves seeing how easily he can pick you up and move you around, and how big he looks when youre holding his dick in your hands

somno: now this might be a lil controversial but he would love being able to use your body to get himself off in the middle of the night and vice verse. this is especially important to him since he practices late a lot,, and sometimes you (or him!) would be too tired to have sex that night. loves waking you up with oral or rutting his hips against your ass,, and will sometimes cum in his pants before you even wake up :( he also loves when he wakes up to you grinding on his dick or thighs, sometimes pretending to still be asleep to hear your pretty moans for him even while he's "asleep"

exhibitionism: this might also be a little controversial,, but i def think its more in the sense of having people hear you guys, more than watching. we all know he's a very jealous boy,, so he loves when you moan loudly for all his members to hear when they're home,, so that they know you're his, and that he's the only one that can make you feel this good. i do think he also likes the idea of getting caught, often fooling around in more public settings like the living room or kitchen while the boys are home, under the dinner table while you are having dinner, and even sometimes in dressing rooms at clothing stores

[rosiethedragongeek]

Love Astrid and Fishlegs just casually discussing the fact that Hiccup is an amazing gift giver in Sandbusted like it's common knowledge. I love imagining them all giving each other gifts on their birthdays and Snoggletog

I feel like Hiccup probably makes them little things like little inventions to make their lives easier or little like,,, scrap metal sculptures for decoration? Also drawings, he'll give them drawings of their dragon or smth? But mostly the little inventions and stuff

Astrid I think would probably get really freaked out about finding/giving gifts, but she tries her best. Mostly new daggers or smth, sometimes a new pair of boots, it's all very practical.

Snotlout gives like, weirdly thoughtful gifts (bc he's just like that lol), like if he sees a piece of jewelry that reminds him of one of them, or like, sew them something, he's just very very sweet. On the other end of the spetrum he has been known to give them like fucking homemade statues of himself sooooo

Fishlegs is THE sweetest ever, he makes scarves and blankets and stuff, little wood carvings, homemade candles, bakes bread, bouquets of flowers, etc etc (he also paints rocks)

Ruffnut doesn't really make anything, but she does shop, so when Snoggletog or a birthday or something is coming up she goes to the Northern Market and buys stuff for whoever needs a gift. It's always a little outlandish, but weirdly fitting. Like a solid gold maces and talons set or like, the flashiest tunic you've ever seen, she also loves buying the most RIDICULOUS stuff like a giant stuffed shark that's been idk fuckin bedazzled or smth (that was for snotlout and it sits proudly in the main room of his hut)

Tuffnut gives them random crap he finds lying around, a cool rock, earrings made from chicken's feathers, a trophy he took off a dragon hunter, the biggest, coolest branch he can find, etc etc. His favorite thing to do is steal stuff from Viggo's tent when they raid the dragon hunters and give those things as presents. He stole Viggo's maces and talons set piece by piece over MONTHS and gave it back to him on his birthday (Viggo didn't even want to ask how he knew his birthday)

[pandoraslxna]

⋆｡° ✮ minors dni 🔞

⋆｡° ✮ Kinktober masterlist

⋆｡° ✮ Warnings: vaginal fingering / almost fisting (?) bc he uses all four of them, teasing, bully!reader, squirting, degradation

⋆｡° ✮ Translation: tanhì = star, bioluminescent freckle

Four fingers are weird. They’re unnatural.

You feel the flush of dark embarrassment tickle up your spine, face buried in Lo‘aks shoulder as said smug bastard presses a fingertip between your folds, teasing your slippery entrance. It makes you feel even more ridiculously bare than you already were; naked, sitting on his lap with you back against his chest and legs spread wide over his thighs.

His cock is trapped between your back and his lower stomach, aching for attention, yet he’s still fully clothed.

The tingle up your spine reminds you of the thought you hadn’t finished yet. Four fingers are wrong. Four fingers mean sky people, human, demon, alien. But four fingers also mean an extra finger per hand to touch and tease and stroke–

Gentle, warm strokes of his soft fingertips make your walls flutter in anticipation, like you’re nothing but a nervous virgin.

"What was it that you called me earlier? Ah, a freak, right? And do my freaky hands feel good?" Lo‘ak whispers it into your ear with chuckle. It’s intimate and strange, like a demon on your shoulder whispering sweet sins. "You want more, hm?"

Biting down on your lower lip, your body decides to respond for you, hips canting forward, trying to finally push his fingers inside you.

Then Lo‘aks hands– his sinful, strange, sky people hands are gone like shadows and he’s grabbing your chin and makes you look at him over your shoulder. You don’t fight it, but you still glare at him.

You meet those lust-dark, golden eyes of his and want to shiver, want to beg and plead and make Lo‘ak get on with it because you’re as wet as you‘ll ever going to be, had been since Lo‘ak stripped you of every stitch of clothing, kissing and licking and groping you into this state, after you had yet again pointed at him and laughed over his extra digit.

Lo‘ak was still holding your chin, his other hand running up and down the inside of your thigh, dangerously close to your core, but not quite touching you again.

"Say it", he then whispers, mouth turning up into a smirk, already kiss pink and wet. "Say it and I’ll keep going, show you what those freaky hands are capable of."

"I… want more", you confess, voice hoarse and quiet, determined and wanting, yet you can’t help the way you roll your eyes at him with a frustrated little pout.

Lo‘ak enjoys how bratty you are. Mostly, because he’s confident into his ability to fuck that attitude right out of you. He’s been wanting to do so since the day he stepped foot on this island and you giggled to Ao’nung over the odd shape of his tale and called him names.

"Yeah, you sure do", he chuckles and then makes a big show of dipping his fingers back down between your thighs, smiling like the cat that got the cream when his hand comes back up and he rubs your sticky, clear arousal between the pads of his fingers until all four of them are coated and glistening, from tip to second knuckle. A not so subtle reminder of just where those fingers came from and where they’re going again. "Look how wet you are, you’re dripping all over my fingers, thanì."

He then returns his hand between your thighs and presses his index finger against your entrance, before you can give him a snarky comeback. Testing the slick opening until it gives, he lets the digit slide inside, and Lo’ak the sweet fuck, licks at your neck with broad wet flicks of his tongue and whispers nonsense against the shell of your ear until you’re squirming. His free hand, strong, steady, but equally as freaky, is braced on the underside of your knee, effortlessly holding your legs wide open for him to play with you as he pleases.

"How does that feel, hm? You like my alien fingers inside you?" You hear him ask, his chin coming to rest on your shoulder to get a good view of his finger sliding in and out of your clenching hole.

"J-Just.. shut up", comes as a breathless response.

"You have your entire life to be little bitch", Lo’ak chuckles lowly, "Why not take today off and let yourself enjoy this?”

Then, he wriggles a second finger in beside the first one, and starts to ease them out together, then back in; a slow, slick push. You squirm even more, high pitched moans falling from your lips, and then a choked and breathless noise as Lo‘ak settles into a slow rhythm, pushing in deep and curving to brush something inside you that has you clenching greedily around the digits.

It feels so good every time he just curves his fingers, hooking and pressing at that spot that is turning you into a wanton little slut. One who’s bucking her hips and grinding her ass back against his cock that’s still trapped between your back and his stomach. It gets worse when he inserts the third finger, stretching you out to the absolute max.

They’re so fucking big, thick and strong and it’s such an intense feeling, overwhelming, too much and never enough. It hurts so good, that you have tears gathering in your eyes, wet and shameful, and your toes curl into your soles from the pleasure.

Fuck, you mentally curse yourself. You’re really tearing up like a little virgin, just because he‘s finger fucking you. But it’s deep, rough and filthy and so so good, you just can’t help it.

"Hmm, good girl", Lo‘ak hums lowly into your ear, "See how well you’re taking my fingers? Your greedy little pussy is swallowing them right in. I think you can take another."

His thumb slowly begins to add further to the stimulation, by rubbing your clit in tight, fast circles. And then the fourth finger splits you open with a squelching sound, before he thrusts them all in and out of you, curling them likes he’s beckoning to you and your legs begin to tremble wildly.

"Oh fuck, fuck, fuck. Lo‘ak!” You cry out, lights flashing behind your eyelids, sobbing, trembling, and shaking apart in his arms as you come in thick, juicy spurts of slickness, soaking his palm and the inside of your own thighs.

"There you go, baby", Lo‘ak laughs, watching with half lidded eyes and a smug grin as you come undone on his lap. And the moment you fall limp in his arms, you find yourself agreeing to what he had told you earlier.

They may be freaky, but nobody has ever made you come the way he did with those hands.

[txlovesong]

ok let me share some unedited thoughts from my notes app before i get to writing

yuuup mostly hard hours

⊹ bsf to lovers! perv! soobin. .. i just know soobin is a freak. and he'd be so embarrassed about it. but he cant help it. and seeing his reactions only gets u more excited. .. telling him about all the thoughts u had about him before he knew about ur feelings. that u used to lie in ur bed at night, thinking ab sucking his dick, wanting so badly to feel him fill u up. .. and soobin literally dying as u tell him this lmao. and then finally, literally drooling as u sink down on him for the first time (fuck)

⊹ bruhhh i just want beomgyu to bend me over and feel the soft skin of his hips slamming against me as he grabs my ass to go even deeper,, , he’s so hot i want him to ruin me

⊹ no one has ever made you orgasm. yeonjun can't have that. (bffs to lovers?)

⊹ lying next to soobin in bed. him in a white tee, his jet black hair still slightly wet from his shower and sticking to his forehead. his cheeks tinted a pretty rosy pink. and that beautiful pearly smile, lighting up his whole face. crinkling his nose and throwing his head back against the covers as he lets laughter take over his body. your head turned to the side, grinning up at him in adoration (fuck i would fall in love with him fr)

⊹ gamer gyu on his computer with his headset on. u playing on ur DS n sulking bc hes not paying u any attention. bored, u throw the DS to the side, reaching out for him. bj? riding? (this is so cliche)

⊹ bruh i had such an intense dream where soobin was eating me out and it was so good i was almost crying omg n he looked so pretty between my legs and i was tugging at his pretty black hair and he was just so into it an it felt so real i cant do this💀

[skydaemon]

Rating the mommy issues of TLT characters in alphabetical order

contains spoilers technically

Abigail: can't have kids but clearly maternal as fuck. call her mother. 2/10

Aiglamene: she has inverse mommy issues - daughter issues. -10/10

Augustine: full offense but he has freudian vibes. fuck-hate relationship w mercymorn who is has the energy of a neglectful mother. 7/10

Camilla: clearly raised by incredibly competent parents - unclear if she had a mother. Even if she did her real issues are codependency with Palamedes. 0/10

Corona: unconfirmed but a girl like that did NOT experience maternal affection growing up. 5/10

Crux: yknow what. nobody whose mother held them enough is Like That. 10/10

Dulcinea: idk if she had a mother, but i get 'raised by gay dad(s)' vibes from her. possibly the best adjusted character of all 0/10

G1deon: man is obsessed with doing what God wants EXCEPT when it's not to fuck a terrorist. four parts people pleaser one part horny 5/10

Gideon: mum only birthed her to blow her up, died, then used her afterlife to terrorise Gideon’s not-quite-girlfriend; gave her a desperate desire for external validation and attention, especially from evil cougars. 11/10

Harrow: mum committed genocide to conceive her, never smiled at her, attempted to murder-suicide her. 12/10

Ianthe: unclear. daddy issues but no mention of mother afaik - might not even have one. no indication of mommy issues in her romantic life bc she didn’t attempt to fuck mercymorn. HOWEVER she’s such a freak she can’t possibly have had a positive female role model. 3/10

Isaac: born in a vat but had abigail as a maternal figure so 5/10

Jeannemary: same as isaac but she's definitely sapphic so bump that to 6/10

John: literally reformed the Earth in the image of his mum’s old Hollywood hair Barbie. Also, look at him. 100/10

Judith: 9/10 no questions

Magnus: so chill but also he has the vibes of someone into mommydom shit. he's sucked abigail's tits for SURE 3/10

Marta: idk i think she has 'estranged from family' vibes. 4/10

Mercymorn: her mother might have been good but she can't remember her, so 5/10

Naberius: he kissed his mother on the mouth DAILY and you know it. 10/10

Ortus: mostly daddy issues but you saw his mother. 8/10

Palamedes: I haven’t read Doctor Sex but I have his mommy issues on good authority. I hate to say it but camilla is his mommy. 6/10

Pyrrha: unknown. Loves a milf but then who doesn’t. 1/10

Wake: giver of mommy issues. she's the mommy that's the issue. unrateable

[ETA: @everyone making fun of me for saying he sucks tits like it's something special im SORRY i didn't say magnus sits on abigails lap and pretends to breastfeed but i thought it would be GROSS i guess i forgot what this fandom is. ily all be home for dinner]

[icallhimjoey]

idk why but I think it would be funny reader stuck in the elevator with joe and reader freaking out bc the elevator stopped while joe is all soft and trying to calm her down

YES excellent – i merged this idea with another request from anon who asked for a story that starts on the tube, so, here we go... a new five-part series! here's part one! thanks for the request, you're well sexy and the best, love ya for life xo Wordcount: 2.6K

---

Between Floors and Feelings

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

“Rough night?”

You knew what this looked like.

You understood why the person who you'd sat down next to immediately got up and moved a few seats down. Why they avoided the drama of it all.

You understood why the lady opposite you stared at the floor and nothing but the floor, pretending that she hadn't seen you, probably because that would just be easiest for everyone involved, the politest thing to do.

You understood why the handsome stranger at the end of the carriage kept looking over, his big round eyes overflowing with pity for the runaway bride in the dirty dress, mascara stains all down her face and her hair a tangled up mess.

You got it.

You probably would’ve felt the same had you witnessed a girl in a wedding dress sit down in an empty seat, sort of dazed and empty-looking, numb to the stares and whispers – if people even whispered at all; the tube was notoriously quiet, always and forever.

“Rough night?” a boy from a group of four, maybe five, called over, and the rest of them all tried to hide their laughs.

Badly.

It was obvious they’d been drinking and you guessed they were on their way to the next party. Off to find another bar or a club that still let people in after the last tube had gone.

You made direct eye-contact with the kid, and you looked exhausted the way people can only look exhausted after they’ve cried for a good while.

Made sense, since, you know, you’d cried for a good while.

You just looked at this boy, who thought maybe he’d get a reaction out of you, but your lack of expression and unwavering stare quickly made him grow uncomfortable. Made his buddies shove his shoulders as they told him to leave her alone man, suddenly all respectful and well-mannered.

They felt the vibe. None of this was fucking funny.

It was enough to get him to back off, and thank fuck they all got off at Leicester Square – of course they did – and when the doors closed again, you noticed the carriage was mostly empty now.

A glance sideways told you the handsome stranger who’d been sneaking looks at you was still there.

Watching you.

What an outfit to be seen in by someone who had looks that would usually make you sit up a little straighter. Would make you faff with your hair a bit. Would make you stick your chin out and push your shoulders back, just in case he looked at you again.

You absolutely didn’t give a single shit about it now.

Couldn't care less about what you currently looked like.

You knew your face was a mess of streaky foundation with black mascara marks all the way down to your chin and, fuck it, you weren’t even planning on washing it off tonight. You’d wallow in bed and probably would cry some more before you’d fall asleep.

Tomorrow could be the day on which you’d care.

Maybe.

Right now all you’d wanted to do was murder someone, then sleep, and also, empty the rest of your bladder.

Perhaps that was the only thing about tonight that brought you secret joy; the memory of squatting over your boss’s handbag to piss right into it. You had to stop in a scurry when you heard footsteps coming up the stairs and didn’t want to be caught, but, if you had been, ultimately, it wouldn't have mattered.

You had resigned with immediate effect when you'd seen them.

Finding her unguarded handbag on your way out was exactly what she fucking deserved. You knew you'd probably regret it later, but for right now, it was all you fucking had.

The train stopped at Covent Garden, and it took a second for your body to get up to get out. Like the signals your eyes and ears picked up took longer to travel to the right parts of your brain, that then following signals took longer to travel from your brain to the right parts of your body.

You had to lift up your skirt, two fists grabbing at the tulle, to make sure your feet didn't get caught up as you stepped onto the platform.

With the increasingly annoying See It, Say It, Sorted repeating itself for the millionth time within the fourteen minutes you'd been on the tube, the doors beeped behind you before you heard them roll shut.

The platform felt empty, just a couple other people making their way towards the exit, and with your zest for life currently non-existent, the sensation of the wind from the tube leaving felt nice. So, you took a second, just stood there and thought to yourself how long it would take for it to become weird that you weren't moving.

There were just too many things to freak out over, far too much to completely overwhelm you, but it was almost like none of it was real. As if every single survival mechanism your body held within itself had switched on. They all made sure that the only thing you had going inside your brain was a low, constant hum. Nothing else.

It was almost like you weren't even there.

Like the whole evening had been a dream.

Like you didn't even really exist in this moment right now.

Yea. You were definitely dissociating.

You felt like a ghost a little.

One that had to pee, still. That motivated you enough to turn your head, tired heavy-lidded eyes reading the signs to follow them out.

Exit. To the lifts and stairs.

You were nearly home.

Home, where you were definitely 100 per cent going to beeline it straight from your front door right into bed.

Just that thought alone brought you back into yourself a little more, but it was just so you could tear up again. You felt the hot pinpricks behind your eyes and quickly shoved yourself out again.

No more crying, please.

You could just... float down the underground tunnels behind yourself. Follow your own footsteps out of the station. You knew were you lived. You would find yourself there later.

It was fine.

It was after the last theater rush, so for Covent Garden standards, it felt eerily quiet. Not that you were complaining. Waiting for the lifts whilst crushed between a bunch of tourists was the last thing you wanted right now.

But stepping into an empty lift with just one other person stepping in behind you, seeing just a few people step out on the other side, felt weird too.

Especially when you looked, and you saw that the one other person was the handsome stranger from your carriage. He'd apparently gotten off too, and suddenly, you felt embarrassed.

You were wearing a dirty wedding dress. Had black marks all over your face, all over your hands.

He looked fucking stunning. All prim and proper. Vintage-looking tweed green suit. Olive-y green. Gorgeous and well put together, the literal exact opposite from you in your current state. Like, sure, his curls were a little messy, but it seemed part of his look.

As the lift doors closed behind you, the stranger gave you a polite nod accompanied by a tight lipped smile. And you would have returned it, would've made it a kind, well-mannered exchange of acknowledgement, but, you weren't really inside of your body, remember?

All you did was look at him a second, face all blank, and you only slightly noticed that the empathy in his eyes doubled right in front of you before you turned away. You turned and slumped against the side, head resting back, eyes scanning the ads but not really reading anything, and you wondered if these lifts ever got cleaned. If someone ever took a rag and some cleaning solution and wiped down all the panels. By the look of things, probably not.

What if that was your job?

Clean the Covent Garden tube station lifts every day. There were four of them, and you imagined they all could use a good scrub.

You honestly wouldn't mind a job like it. You needed a new job anyway, 't was close to home and you liked the sense of accomplishment cleaning something incredibly dirty gave you. Where you could really see the difference.

You were doing a stellar job at distracting yourself from the current situation you were in. Made sure to stay all the way out of your body. Made sure that this veil that separated you from the real world, that blurred the boundaries between what was real and what was not, made sure that it stayed in place.

You were so close to home.

Wanted to be there right this second.

Fuck, you were so tired.

Maybe your new job could be figuring out this whole teleportation thing. See if you could make that work for yourself.

You didn't realise that your eyes were staring at the man who stood near where the doors were meant to open when you reached ground floor. Just, comfortably locked at the shoulder seam of his jacket.

Even when he turned his head a little for a quick look before he took a small sip from a half empty water bottle, surely because he could sense your two bulging wet eyeballs burn into his back, you didn't move your eyes.

Felt too nice to keep them there.

But then, without warning, there was a sudden jolt. It shocked you right back into your body and you couldn't help the small gasp that escaped you. The lift had come to an abrupt halt, and the lights flickered for a moment before they settled into a dim glow.

Oh no.

“Oh no,” the barely audible sound of your voice surprised you. Your throat still felt thick from crying, and hearing it out loud just reminded you of it more.

“Is it stuck?”

For a second, you thought that maybe, you were wrong.

You made a mistake.

Clearly you weren't really with it right now, so you didn't really trust your senses currently. You didn't really know what was real and what wasn't and found it difficult to differentiate.

But then the guy who was in there with you looked around, and then lowered his head. By the way his eyes moved, you could tell he was trying to listen for something.

“Are we stuck?” you tried again, and his eyes shot up to look at you.

No answer.

Fuck.

A mix of emotions washed over you; disbelief, annoyance, a new good dose of self-pity along with a strong healthy pang of sheer panic.

Cute.

It was kind of exactly how you felt about an hour ago.

If only there was a handbag of someone you really hated to piss into to elevate the situation a little. It helped a lot before.

“I think we're stuck.”

That was exactly the wrong thing to hear and it immediately threw you for a loop.

A panic attack.

The whole ordeal.

Your heart quickened its pace, an unsettling sensation tightened your whole chest and your breathing picked up, became all shallow at a rapid rate. Before you knew it, the box you were now trapped in felt like it was shrinking around you and suddenly you were in a place of imminent danger.

You were inside a mortal trap, a tragedy waiting to happen.

You had to sit down.

But your knees were locked.

You didn't know if the moisture you felt on your face were tears or sweat.

Oh man, it was hot in there. Did this guy feel hot in there too? Jesus Christ, why were wedding gowns so fucking restricting?

You saw how the emergency button was pressed, just once. Sensible. And then this guy waited patiently as he listened to static coming from the little intercom below it.

Well, fuck that.

In your panic you kind of threw yourself at this emergency button and with frantic hands and shaking fingers, you pressed it over and over and over, until two big hands took hold of you and guided your arms down.

“It's OK, don't worry. Help will come,”

Those words meant nothing to you, no matter how kindly they were said.

“Hello?!” you shouted like anyone would hear you, eyes big and darting, and you scanned the rest of the lift for more buttons.

Your phone!

Of course.

You fished your phone out, panicked movements making you nearly drop it.

No service.

Why?!

“Hey, breathe,” the far-too-good-looking-for-his-own-good stranger tried, but you had already slung both arms over your head and got the jitters in your legs, desperately needing to move and so you started pacing.

Two small steps towards the back, two small steps back to where this guy was stood.

“This is just perfect, what the fuck, this is just–” the loud and sudden sob that escaped you made you slap a hand over your mouth.

“Calm down, we're safe, you need to–” he huffed a humourless laugh through his nostrils, all obvious nerves and tense uncomfortability. “You need to breathe,”

And he was right. You did need to breathe. You started feeling light-headed a little, felt your cheeks start to tingle, so you covered your face with both hands and squatted down, making the tulle skirt of your dress take up half the floorspace.

He joined you down there and held out his opened water bottle to you.

“Do you need some water?”

You didn't move your hands as you shook your head no.

“Okay, let me try that again. My name's Joe, I think you're having an anxiety attack, and I think you need some water. Here, have some water,”

“I don't want water.”

It was definitely sweat and tears. You felt clammy and cold but somehow uncomfortably hot at the same time.

“Breathe in, hey,” a finger got snapped in front of your face several times. That didn't do shit. “You're just breathing out, you've got to let air in too.”

And just for a second, the smallest fraction of a teeny tiny moment, everything suddenly cleared up in your mind. Comfort and ease took over and you felt... well, nothing.

Felt like drifting.

You felt everything flush down your body, all the way from your face right into your toes until it was all gone.

Just for a mere second, though.

“I'm fine,” you croaked before everything went slack. You lost your balance, your eyes rolled back and just like that, everything went dark.

“Oh, shit, oh shit,” Joe muttered, moving forward from sitting on his haunches to pressing his knees into the fabric of your dress as he tried to reach for you in a flash.

He got you by the arm, his open water bottle terribly in the way, and his other hand managed to reach around your neck. He got to slowly lower you down, ease you towards the floor entirely unsure of what to do next.

What did he need to do next?!

He was trapped in a tube station lift, on a stop he didn't even need to get out of, with an unconscious runaway bride who'd quite clearly was having the absolutely worst day of her life ever.

What the fuck was he going to do?

Then, behind him, from the corner of the elevator, the intercom static picked up again and was followed by a crackly voice.

“Emergency services, how can we assist you?”

---

The Taglisted: 

@ghostinthebackofyourhead @dirtyeddietini @jasminearondottir @freckledjoes @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @thefemininemystiquee @alana4610 @emmamooney @thatonefan-girl @paola-carter @figmentofquinn @haylaansmi @thewondernanazombie @munsonmunster @kellyxo1 @chaoticgood-munson @sherrylyn628 @ohmeg @05secondsofsexgods @lovelyblueness @adoreyouusugar @nadixq @prozacandnicotine @roosterisdaddy36 @alwayslindie @breddiemunson @eddie-joe-munson @ali-in-w0nderland @pepperstories @phyllosilicate-s @thebellenouvelle @luvrsbian @joesquinns @choke-me-eddie @alizztor @jnnyrd @did-it-work @capricornrisingsstuff @quinnsmunson @frogers @kennedy-brooke @daleyeahson @eddielives1986 @harringtonfan4 @sadbitchfangirl @emma77645 @tlclick73

(taglist currently full, sorry)

[backtocarousel]

ok so my reoccurring headcanons r that chan

1. is an ass lover and def eats ass with no shame. he would do anal with u but hes got bcs (big cock syndrome) n is too afraid he'll hurt u so settles for his tongue and fingers, but mostly his tongue <3

2. would probably suck ur toes in missionary with ur legs up if he's really feeling it. likes pretty dainty anklets n got u one that has a little 'c' charm on it.

3. he is not the stereotypical hardcore dom & rather gentle (ideally a dom!switch) but he still pounds ur shi and likes to be called daddy when the time's right. it's an ego boost, but on normal days when he says "moan my fucking name, baby," he means chris!

4. full blown studio sex never happens but if he's really feeling it he'll hold u on his lap and finger u until ur practically dislodging his fingers from how hard u came, then he's making u do it again when u finally relax

5. he loves making sex tapes hehehe there's so many filmed on one very specific camera he owns

last one (i can go on and on i'm crazy)

6. taught u how to touch urself with ur back pressed to his chest 100% for his own enjoyment and edge u relentlessly under the guise of u "not doing it how daddy taught you."

this made me saur insane i cant even explain how much..... i love u whoever u are ☹️☹️ someone should write a fanfic using these hehe

1. yes pls yes yes anal is a controversial thing for most people but sorry everyone who follows me... i love it ☹️ his boombayah would NOT fit . definitely not. give me that skilled tongue boy

2. i think he'd just suck ur body ALL over. the c charm... can you imagine him giving you a necklace, bracelet and anklet with them all having the 'c' charm? oughhh. my stomach

3. PLEASE. PLEASE PLEASE. U GET ME. i dont mind the hardcore dom chan but softie dom chris is my life and i will defend it forever. he gets the stress of taking care of everything out of u and loves getting pampered by u (is that the right word? excuse my bad english ueueue) calling him daddy while domming him is my dream so sorry

4. with his sexy fingers 🤤 he's probably a bit of a neat freak when it comes to his studio dont u agree or nah

5. STOP BC THATS WHAT I ALWAYS THINK. i thought of it more like him having a really deep folder named recipes or smt bullshit like that which contains him pounding the life out of u fucking u silly

6. oughhhhhh doing this on a chill night room illuminated only bu scented candles the movie infront of u both long forgotten while you press against his chest feeling his huge cock watching you finger yourself ☹️ i love u bangchan

[its-time-to-write]

this is 100% self indulgent. no one asked for this except me and I have zero excuse for how it turned out. i have no defense, no witty rebuttal, no nothing. i wrote this because i wanted to, and at the very least i hope this inspires someone to write their borderline-self-insert fic and post it publicly.

this fic is set after season 3. enjoy😂

(oh now might also be a good time to mention how much I love Man City. bc it’s a lot.)

can’t hear my thoughts (i cannot hear my thoughts)

Calling Lake Como beautiful is like saying space is big. It’s true for sure, but it feels like an understatement. It’s June and the weather is absolutely gorgeous, perfect for the wedding you’re attending. It’s for two good friends of yours, and it’s going to be a party full of football royalty. You’re mostly excited to see friends who are WAGs from other teams who you’ve connected with over the past year and a half.

Oh, and you suppose it will be a nice vacation with Jamie, too.

You’re staying at a beautiful hotel that’s been open since 1910, and you swear you’ll never stay somewhere as beautiful again.

“Getting ideas for the house?” Jamie teases, and it sends a thrill down your spine with the way he refers to his house as your collective home. 

You grin as he spins you around the Suite Greta. Everything is golden, from the drapes to the pillows to the sun catching on his face.

“No,” you reply, “but maybe for a vacation home?”

Jamie laughs as he catches you up in his arms. “I could see us here in the next off-season. Not sure we’d get out much,” he muses and you wrap your arms around him as tight as they can go.

You’re here for a full week but Isaac’s wedding is only one day. You and Jamie have plans to see everyone who’s in town, as well as have some time to yourself.

“Sasha wants to go out for dinner tonight,” you tell Jamie as he unpacks his suitcase.

“Girls only, or will Jack be there?”

“Let’s see,” you hum as you scan the group chat. “Isabel said she and Erling will be there, so looks like it’s a couple’s thing. That’ll be fun, right?” you ask with just a hint of anxiety. Jamie and Jack are friends, they’ve run in the same circles for years, but you’re not sure how he’s going to feel about being outnumbered two to one, City to Richmond, at dinner.

“As long as Rodri ain’t there, I’m fucking chuffed,” he says as he lays out his suit on the bed.

“Chuffed? Is that a thing you say now?” you ask, flat on your back on the bed.

“Yep,” he replies. “I’m posh now, babe. Sorry you Americans can’t do it as well as we Brits.”

“I have it on good authority that we do it very well,” you smirk. “But I don’t think that’s something you’ll get to experience tonight. I haven’t seen Sash or Isa in ages, so we’ll probably talk for a long time and then I’ll be tired when we get back to the room.”

Jamie groans. “You’re sadistic, woman. The shit you put me through.”

You smile and remind him, “You’re the one who picked me, remember?”

—

Jamie is technically the one who picked you. You had just moved from America to London, got a temp job at a Richmond FC, and the rest is history. You don’t work at Richmond anymore, haven’t for a while, as you’ve been able to start your own thing in between attending matches and events and whatever else Jamie’s invited to. Being Jamie’s girlfriend is a full-time job on its own, and he definitely spoils you beyond what you’re used to. He’s the one who bought your dress for the wedding and it freaked you out just a little bit until you called Sasha (an angel, by the way) who laughed and talked you off the ledge. 

“Comes with the territory, babe. They’re just boys with more money than they know what to do with. Jack’d buy me the moon if he could figure out how. Enjoy it. It’s been a while since anyone’s seen Tartt this happy.”

So you do. You had been living together for almost a year now so you’d think that a dress wouldn’t push you over the edge, but there you go. You’re trying to be calmer about it. It’s better ever since you met Sasha and Isabel. 

You had been stuck in a room while Jamie talked to his old manager, and they had noticed your deer-in-the-headlights expression. You’re right in the middle of the two, age-wise, and from similar enough backgrounds.

“Here’s my number. Come over to my flat tomorrow for brunch. We’ll get you settled, babes,” Sasha had said. You went and it had been amazing to finally make real friends, even if they were technically on the opposing team. 

You’re excited to see them, excited for Isaac to finally get married, and excited to spend a full seven days with Jamie by your side. It’s going to be the best.

—

You enter the venue arm-in-arm with Jamie, practically dancing across the grass. The sun’s shining and there are all sorts of people you know and love. It feels a little surreal to be here. 

Earlier, back in the room, you had slipped into your dress carefully to avoid getting makeup stains on the front. The skirt fell just at your knees and puffed out ever so slightly, with thick straps instead of regular sleeves so you could fully enjoy the warm weather. 

“Do a spin,” he had said, voice full of glee. You’d acquiesced, twirling around to let the blue tile print billow out before he caught you, kissing your shoulder so as not to ruin your makeup. 

Now, you’re holding onto him and trying not to wrinkle his linen suit when you hear someone shout your name. 

“Sasha!” you screech, running toward her as best you can with your shoes on the grass. You squeeze each other into a tight hug, uncaring about about the state of her hot pink dress. 

“Hey man,” Jack says to Jamie, who grins and shakes his hand. “You’d think they haven’t seen each other in fucking ages.”

“It’s been twelve hours,” you say. “And before that it’s been like two months. Anyway, don’t you two have some football to discuss or something? Or headbands? Or-”

“Really short socks,” Sasha helpfully supplies. 

Jamie shakes his head. “Fuck off, Attwood.”

“Fuck you, Tartt,” she replies. 

“Oi, you two wouldn’t even be friends if it weren’t for me. You could be a little nicer,” Jamie says. 

“Oh is that Hughes?” Jack asks before either Sasha or Jamie can escalate. Their entire friendship is based off sniping one another and neither you nor Jack are particularly in the mood for it today. 

Jamie turns to look. “Oh mint, looks like things are starting. You saved us seats?”

“Yeah, with Haaland and Isabel,” Sasha returns, linking her arm through yours. “C’mon, did you get yourself a parasol?”

—

It’s the most beautiful wedding you’ve ever been to. Stella looks stunning in her gown, Isaac stoically sobs his eyes out while Colin surreptitiously hands him a tissue. Even Roy seems to be having a good time, but then again Keeley once told you that he “really fucking loves weddings.” You hadn’t believed her, but his lips are in a straight line instead of a frown so maybe she was right. 

There’s a group of City and Richmond players together, and it’s a little strange to see how friendly they are off the pitch. Dani is explaining something with lots of hand gestures to Phil while the rest of the group jokes around. 

Sasha sneaked you and Isabel away to get drinks for yourselves and you were about to get away unnoticed when Erling caught Isabel’s arm and asked for a drink too, so now you’re ordering for your boyfriends as well as yourselves. 

You don’t really care, there’s a part of you that’s reveling in the sheer joy of being young and hot. Sue you. 

“Cosmo, please,” you say while the girls order drinks of their own. Sasha raises an eyebrow so you shrug and say, “Jamie likes what he likes.”

She rolls her eyes and scoffs “Tartt,” but it’s with the affection of an older sister so you elbow her and ask, “What did Jack want?”

She makes a face. “Heineken. He also likes what he fuckin’ likes.” 

You wheeze out a laugh as Isabel comes to join you. She smiles as she sips from something lavender colored in a martini glass. She cuts an elegant figure in her yellow, billowy dress. You smooth your dress and open your mouth to say something when a voice calls your name. You look to see your ex walking up, hand-in-hand with his wife. You know, the one he left you for. 

“Jake,” you say in surprise. God, you need your brain to form coherent thoughts right now. “What are you doing here?”

He grins, far too wide and goofy to be real. Not like Jamie, you think. 

“Oh, you know, Emma’s loosely related to the bride on her dad’s side. She asked for an invite, so here we are. Who are you here for? Bride or groom?”

“Both, actually,” you reply automatically. Jake’s words are grating, not so much in content as they are in tone. He always had a way of saying things condescendingly, like everyone else was a stupid little kid. 

“Oh,” he says in what you think is supposed to be surprise, “that’s funny. I didn’t know you knew anyone out here. You’ve been living in England all alone, right?”

Emma just hovers by Jake’s shoulder. She’s not contributing anything to this conversation except a snooty little smirk. 

“No,” you say. “I’m not alone. This is Isabel, by the way.” You look around for Sasha, but she’s disappeared. Smart girl. 

Isa doesn’t extend her hand. “Nice to meet you,” she says and Jake takes her at her word. He puffs up his chest a little bit as he asks, “Where are you from? You don’t sound British.”

“We’re from Norway,” a voice behind her says. “I’m Erling.”

Sasha has reappeared with Jack, Erling, and Jamie in tow. You mentally congratulate her with a well done, Sash as you feel Jamie’s arm loop around your waist. 

He feels like a solid wall against your back, a glimmer in an otherwise garbage moment. 

Jake takes stock of the three men who are looking at him with less-than friendly stares. You’re not sure what Sasha told them, but you’re absolutely positive Jamie recognizes Jake. You can practically feel the hairs on his arm bristling. 

Jake finishes his assessment and deems it appropriate to talk. “So, how do you all know each other?”

Jamie scoffs and looks away, while Jack stares at Jake like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. 

You wonder what it is with your affinity for J-names. 

“We’re footballers,” Erling says before anyone can take more offense. 

“Premier League footballers,” Jamie adds, as if it means anything to Jake. 

Jake’s American, like you, and he’s never been much for sports anyway. He wouldn’t even recognize David Beckham if the man were standing under a poster of himself. 

Jake says, “Right. Hey, weren’t you on one of those trashy dating shows?” and Jamie stiffens. 

Sasha mutters, “Fuck’s sake,” under her breath as Erling and Isabel take pointed interest in something in the distance.  

“No,” Jamie replies shortly. “The fuck were you talking to my girl?”

Jake looks to you in surprise. “Oh! You two are together? That’s… well, that’s… I guess I just didn’t expect her to be whoring around like that. But hey, move to another country and all morals go out the window, right?”

That’s the thing about Jake. He never speaks as if he’s actually trying to be offensive. He just says what’s on his mind. And you’re a little concerned that what’s on his mind is going to land Jamie (and quite possible Jack) in jail. Neither of them are especially known for backing down from a squabble. “Cut from the same cloth,” Pep was rumored to say. 

“Fuck off, mate,” Jack interjects. “Just fuck off. Everyone here loves her, and you can’t talk about her like that.”

Your ex reevaluates the situation at hand and decides the best thing to do would be to take Emma’s hand and walk away. 

“Strange that his wife does not speak,” Erling remarks. 

You grimace. “You could’ve stopped at ‘strange.’ No idea what I ever saw in him.”

Jamie has a crushing grip on your waist so you wiggle a bit to get him to loosen up. 

“Prick,” he mutters. “How the fuck did he even get here, anyway? He’s in fucking America.”

“His wife’s loosely related to Stella. They asked for an invite,” Isabel volunteers. 

Jamie rolls his eyes. “Oi, if he tries to talk to you again, I’ll grab Roy and we’ll fucking kill him.”

“Yeah, ‘cause McAdoo’s never been above a little violence at a party,” Jack grins. 

You return his smile and say, “Thanks, but I’m pretty sure his mother-in-law would kill you.”

Erling huffs out a laugh. “Never a dull moment in the Premier League, is there?”

Isabel grins and loops her arm through his. “I’m tired of all this,” she says.  “Let’s go dancing. There’s a band and we don’t have to think about anything other than celebrating, yes?”

“God yes,” says Sasha.

Jamie still looks murderous, but you squeeze his hand once and whisper, “I’m fine, babe. It’s fine.”

He looks like he wants to argue, but he lets you pull him along to the dance floor with the group.

— 

There are so many people that you don’t even catch a glimpse of Jake and Emma. You’re not sure what they’re up to, and fairly certain they don’t know anyone else here. You on the other hand, are living your best life as Jamie sings along to “Ain’t No Mountain.” He’s swinging your arms around as he sways in time to the music. You just let him lead you however he wants. The song ends and he presses his lips to your ear so you can hear him over the sheer volume of everyone talking. “D’you want a drink? I can go get you something.”

You nod and mouth my usual, please, so he salutes and begins weaving his way through the crowd. You watch him as long as you can before spinning back around with a smile.

A smile that quickly fades when you realize Emma is right in front of you.

She says, “Cute dress,” and for a moment, you believe she’s being sincere but then she follows it up with, “Did you borrow it from your grandma’s closet? I’ve seen people do that.” 

Right, because grandmas are known for wearing dresses like this. 

“What? No, Jamie got it for me,” you say. 

“Oh cute, is it from Walmart? I think I saw something like it there last week.”

Emma is trying to draw blood. You suppose she’s taking her shot now as opposed to back then because she thinks there’s no one around to call her out. No one who knows her. 

You say, “They don’t have Walmart here,” instead of “It’s Dolce & Gabbana,” because the second phrase would make you sound like a prick. There’s a part of you that wants to be a prick, though, wants to channel that part of Jamie that’s ruthless, vicious and cruel, messing with the opposition before he cuts them down. 

The first time you saw it, it was hard to believe the Jamie on the pitch was the same Jamie who played with your hair while you cooked, or put a sticky note on his fridge titled “Babe,” detailing everything you’d ever said you liked. 

Emma sees she’s not getting to you, so she changes tactics. “Must be hard being here without any friends,” she remarks. “All alone. And you’ve never been especially extraverted. Are those people the only ones here you know?”

God, Jamie, where are you?

You open your mouth to respond but are cut off by someone with a distinctly midwestern twang say, “I heard one of my favorite countrywomen was here.”

You turn to see Ted Lasso grinning at you in a black suit. It’s the same smile you remember, albeit his eyes are a little sharp. You’d bet anything he knows exactly what’s going on between you and Emma. 

“Ted!” you smile as a rush of relief floods your system. You step into his arms for a hug as he says, “Hey, sweetheart. How’ve you been?”

“Oh, you know,” you say. “Kind of great, actually. I wondered if you were going to be here! Have you seen Jamie yet?”

Ted shakes his head. “Y’know, I haven’t. Why don’t we find him together?” He offers you an arm and you take it gratefully, choosing not to spare Emma a glance.

“She seems like a real bucket of laughs,” Ted remarks.

“You have no idea. That’s my ex’s wife.”

Whatever Ted thought you were going to say, he certainly wasn’t prepared for that. He opens and closes his mouth a few times before settling on a short, “Well I’ll be danged.”

You laugh and stand on tiptoes to try to see Jamie. You don’t see him, but you catch a glimpse of an especially tall, blond head.

“This way,” you tell Ted. You brush past Phil who smiles at you, past Colin and Michael, and past someone you’re pretty sure is a Beckham.

You make your way to Erling and Isabel as they dance to the music in their own corner.

You frown. “Have you seen Jamie?” you shout. 

Isabel shakes her head. “He was looking for you,” she calls back.

“Oh,” you say, “Ted, this is Isabel and-”

“Erling Haaland,” Ted says, hand outstretched. “Pleasure to meet you, son. Big fan of the way you play the game.”

You miss Erling’s response, startled by a hand on your shoulder. You turn to see Sam standing behind you.

“Sam!” you exclaim with a grin, “You look so handsome!”

Sam returns your grin and strikes a pose. “I’ve been sent on a very important mission. I am to retrieve you and bring you to Jamie and I am under no circumstances allowed to let a small rat man named Jake speak to you.”

You raise an eyebrow. 

“Jamie’s words, not mine,” Sam clarifies. “Although I must admit, I have seen this rat man. I do not like him very much.”

“You and me both,” you agree. You wave to Isabel and pat Ted on the arm before following Sam.

He leads you away from the crowd of people to a stone path illuminated by small lights. This can’t be right, you think but Sam points down the path and says, “This is where I leave you.”

He turns to leave then changes his mind and spins back around. “It was lovely seeing you today, albeit for a short amount of time. I hope I will be seeing more of you while we are here. It is not often I meet someone who makes Jamie more tolerable.”

He speaks with a touch of humor and it’s just enough to dispel any apprehensions about what’s waiting for you in the dark. 

You say, “Thanks Sam. Love ya,” which he returns before he disappears back to the main party.

You take a breath and head down the steps.

It’s dark, the light barely shining enough for each step, but as you get farther you see a shadowy figure sitting on a bench under a tree. You smile. You can tell exactly who it is by his silhouette.

Jamie stands as you get closer and pulls you into his arms.

“Thought we’d sneak away to make out a bit,” he says. “And maybe to you wouldn’t yell at me in front of all our friends.”

You groan. “What did you do? Please tell me it has nothing to do with Roy. Or Jack. Oh my god, did you two start convincing people you were separated at birth again? Because it’s really only funny one time.”

“Well…” Jamie hedges.

You pinch his back. It’s the only part of him you can reach at the moment. “Jamie Tartt, you’d better tell me what you did right now or so help me you are going to be sleeping on the couch for the rest of our lives.”

“Oi, don’t fucking do that!”

He reaches back to grab your hands and holds them flat on his chest. “We- Roy, Grealish, and me, might have gotten your prick ex kicked out.”

“You what?” you gasp.

Jamie starts speaking in a rush before you can say anything else. “Look, y’know how protective Grealish gets, especially because Sasha fucking loves you, and then Roy heard that your prick ex was here (not the twat ex) and he said it’s easier for him to get in and out of fights on account of him being a fucking manager but then Grealish said that it’s pretty much expected that fights happen so might as well and anyway, no one’s gonna fuckin’ snitch on any of us because (hate to break it to you babe), but you’re, like, everyone’s kid sister. They’d fucking kill for you so it’s possible that we channeled that into threatening to break all of his bones if he ever ended up in the same country as you again.”

You’re processing all of the things Jamie said plus the incredible speed at which he said them, so all you can manage is a single “Okay,” before he’s talking again.

“Ehm, it’s also slightly-fucking-possible that someone did break his foot.”

“What?” you all but shout.

“Coordinated effort between Isa and Haaland,” Jamie says. “Lad’s a fucking wall, don’t know if you’ve noticed.”

“Jesus, Jamie,” you groan. “I don’t know if I should kiss you or pinch you again.”

“You can do both,” he suggests.

You sigh. “I’m going to kiss you. Like, a lot. And I’m not going to worry about getting caught and after we’ve snogged like a pair of kids in high school- sorry, secondary school, then we’re going to eat a bunch more food and dance with our friends. And if you want to get sloshed, I promise I will only take funny videos for myself, and I will not send them to your mum this time.”

Jamie says, “Liar,” as he kisses the tip of your nose.

“Fine,” you concede, “I will most definitely send them to your mum. And Simon. We’re on a group chat.”

“Not even gonna fucking ask,” Jamie says as he threads a hand through your hair so he can get at a better angle to kiss you.

—

You wake up the next morning (ahem, afternoon) to Jamie’s foot in your face.

“Excuse me, sir,” you say.

He hiccups himself awake. “Yeah?” he rumbles. “What fucking time..?”

“Late, I assume,” you say.

He groans and flips himself around so your heads are on the same side of the bed. He wastes no time in tangling your limbs together.

“Oi, koala boy. Some of us have morning breath.”

“No y’don’t babe,” he mumbles.

You scratch his head and a shudder runs through his body. “I know,” you say, “my breath is perfect. I meant you. I just didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

“Cruel woman,” he returns before lapsing into silence. The sun slips through the curtains, and you’re sure it’s going to be another gorgeous day

“Jamie,” you begin then stop.

He says, “Yeah, love?” while looking up at you with his gorgeous blue eyes and you take a moment to freeze this image in your head. 

Jamie Tartt, in bed, hair tousled from sleep. Pillowy white duvet, golden freckled skin, warm body pressed to yours.

He kisses your shoulder, rousing you from your thoughts. 

“Jamie,” you say again, “I wanted to say-”

“Don’t,” he interjects. “You’re not fucking allowed to say thank you for the bare fucking minimum.”

“But it’s not,” you reply, opting to skate over the fact that he apparently can read your mind. “Bare minimum is like, making sure I’m not alone with him, not getting your friends together to scare him off and break his foot.”

Jamie’s been kissing your skin wherever he can reach as you speak, so his words are interspersed with pecks. “Technically, the foot was an accident. Ask any one of our witnesses. And besides, they’re your friends too. You’re the one who got ‘em all to like ya despite the fact we’re mortal enemies on the pitch.”

“You’re the one who goes tanning with Jack,” you remind him.

“Lies told by the press,” Jamie grumbles. “This is my natural sexy glow.”

You say, “Okay little British boy,” as Jamie decides that his current position is not enough and he wants to lay on top of you.

He says something but his face is buried in the crook of your neck, so all you can feel is vibrations.

You ask, “Hm?” so he lifts his head.

“What if it were us next year?”

“Tanning or breaking feet?”

“Getting married.”

Jamie goes back to having his mouth on your neck as if the air weren’t just punched from your lungs.

You’re quiet long enough that he lifts his head again to ask, “Is that good quiet or bad quiet?”

“Good!” you hastily confirm. “Good, but, babe- you haven’t even asked me yet.”

He says, “I’m going to,” as if you should have known already. 

“Okay,” you breathe, “can you give me like a little heads up or something so my nails are done?”

“Uh-huh,” he says, “At the end of the week. Been planning it. Ring’s in my bag, even asked Stella if she’d be pissed that it’s the same week she took on the most un-sexy last name in history. She said she don’t give a shit as long as it’s not at her actual wedding. So.”

“I love you,” you tell him. “Not just because of yesterday or right now. I just think you’re great.”

“I am great, babe,” he says like it’s obvious. “Picked you, didn’t I?”

You crack a smile. “Alright, that’s enough out of you. Do you want to get out of bed or go back to sleep?”

“Sleep,” he replies immediately. 

“Thank God,” you groan, “I didn’t want to move. You’re like a weighted blanket.”

“It’s me sexy muscles,” Jamie says. You wiggle under him to get more comfortable.

“Uh huh,” you agree, but the words are hardly out of your mouth before you’re both back to sleep.

[crushedsweets]

i am so so sorry for the sheer amount of headcanons i'm making you crank out, HOWEVER... i am so curious as to if you have any headcanons for nina and natalie as a duo. i love the way you perceive them and write them it genuinely makes me so happy

i had to doodle them . ok. lets go..

nat was one of the first people nina met from jeff, since she and jeff lived in the barn together.

nina thought nat was a lesbian when they first met . that is literally the only reason why she wasnt mad jeff was living with a woman.

although nina was like, one of the ONLY people to notice toby/nat tension and was sooo heartbroken when she realized they were never getting together..... but then was relieved they didnt get together when she got over jeff because 'well i can't be the only single one!'

again, natalie grew up with 0 girl friends, only hung out with her brother and boys. even after meeting the creeps, theyre still mostly guys. so she's just kinda really awkward and weird around girls. not in a like, 'oh girls r so annoying' way but like... she just doesnt know how to fit in. she just feels so different in the worst possible way and always has.

and nina is very girly, outgoing, touchy, friendly, cute, etc. so it was very like UMMM?!? idk. natalie kept snapping at her, assuming she was fake and weird and just trying to get something from nat, but nina was so persistent and just. friendly. it started making natalie feel warm.

nina's presence started to heal natalies inner little girl. she had it stolen from her time and time again, from her dad, her brother, her peers - the operator, too.

so the two are eventually actual friends. they'll text and play mobile phone games together. sometimes they'll just sit on call and nina will be talking her head off while nat does her own thing at home. one time nat was at tobys cabin and nina was talking about toby on speaker and toby walked in and was like 'hey nina' .... nina almost threw up she was so embarrassed.

nina loves visiting nats bar because everyone is always talking to nina and giving her attention and buying her drinks, and at first nat was irritated but it kinda got nat some better tips since the customers started realizing ninas her friend. so nat was pleased. LOL

nat was never the type to go shopping, but she'll follow nina around and sit while nina tries on clothes and carry around all her bags that she buys LOL... ninas made jokes about nat being boyfriend material and nat just flatout says smth about how nina should get over jeff cuz he would never.

nat is friends with jeff but she's oddly comfortable just telling nina that he's a piece of shit. and ninas always like NOOO U DONT GET IT U DONT SEE WHAT I DO and nats always just .. not... impressed..

nina's always inviting nat out to try new foods. nat grew up just eating bread and noodles with butter half the time so it's fun. nina always tries to pay bc 'well i invited you!!!'. sometimes toby tags along but he feels a way abt going in public places..

nina rarely visits jack cuz she has no reason to, but nat is friends with him so sometimes nina pops in and she's always like ^_^ HELLO TALL MYSTERIOUS SLIGHTLY MONSTEROUS MAN... <3... nat smacks the back of her head cuz she's being dumb and drooling over a bunch of rando freaks. ... . ok i love nina and she owes jeff nothing but she is def not loyal LOLLLL AND SHE HAS THE RIGHT TO FAWN OVER EVERYONE she's a fangirl at heart.

they watch a ton of shows together. nina got nat into horror kdrama stuff, but they have to watch in dub cuz nat cant read the subtitles fast enough . . . at first nina cringed but now she doesnt care.

nat's painted/drawn nina several times, and nina almost cries everytime. she's put the drawings up on her wall before but anytime nat's at her apartment, she takes it down bc 'i dont want my art on ur wall stop it' LOL... kinda rude but whatevs.

ugh theyre just so fucking cute guys im sorry i love them . holds them. brushes their hair.

[that1emowitch]

One shot suggestion: Dick finding out about joyfire bc him finding out his little brother is dating his EX (and honestly probably his other ex too, let’s be real) IS SO FUNNY

OMG I LOVE THIS IDEA!!!

(also can I just say I also love ur username <3)

This isn't short enough to be a drabble but not exactly too long either, it's 760 words, so make of that what you will. Here it is!

TW: Jason's usual level of swearing but milder

"YOU'RE DATING MY EXES??!"

Dick stood in Jason's doorway at the Manor, eyes wide. This was one of those rare times when Jason was staying here, just for a few days, mostly for Alfred's sake. His friends (or so Dick thought) Roy and Kori had joined him— for reasons unknown.

Dick was... feeling slightly awkward with them being around, Kori more so. He was quite civil, buddies, even, with Roy— after all, they'd only dated for a week or so. But Kori... their relationship had not ended well, at all. But Jason refused to unless his Outlaws did, so Dick let it slide.

He'd gone up to call them down for dinner, at Alfred's bidding, going to Jason's room first... to find Jason sitting on Kori's lap while she cradled him, and Roy french-kissing Jason.

"YOU'RE DATING MY EXES??!" The words tore out of him as he stood with his eyes wide, trying to process what he'd just seen.

Jason turned beet red, suddenly jumping away from the red heads. Kori sat cross-legged, smiling as if nothing had happened, while Roy wore a smug grin.

Dick turned to them, his voice high-pitched with disbelief. "AND YOU ARE DATING MY LITTLE WING?"

"I ain't little, Dickface," Jason scoffed from the corner, looking downright embarrassed.

"I don't see the problem," Kori stood from the bed, towering over all three men. "You and I, or you and Roy are not dating anymore. And we are all adults. And we have the love for each other. Why would we not date?"

A unbelieving sound escaped Dick. He turned to Roy, eyes flaming. "You. I know for a fact how vulgar you get in a relationship. Have you done it with my baby brother?"

From across the room he heard Jason's choked gasp, but he paid it no mind.

"Dude. Your 'baby brother' is 24." Roy shrugged, resting a hand on Dick's shoulder. "Why're you getting so worked up over it?"

"I'm not— no, no, I'm not worked up!" Dick scoffed. He faced Jason, pouting. "You. You stole my exes!"

Finally, Jason managed to get control over his expression and forced a smirk. "Yeah. Maybe they just know who's better."

"Yes, Jason is a much better of the partner than you, Dick," Kori pointed out not-so-helpfully.

Roy finally registered Dick's bloodthirsty expression and backed away, hands lifted. "Whoa, hey, man, chill. Seriously."

"I am chill," Dick snapped, glaring at him. He turned back to Jason, who was clearly trying to appear cool and intimidating, and pointed an accusing finger. "You have so much to explain. But right now Alfred wants you all down for dinner."

Then he left the trio without a word.

A bit after dinner, Dick finally found Jason alone in the library, reading some book titled 'Jane Eyre'.

"Jason." Dick walked towards him, expression a forced calm. "I am... sorry about how I reacted earlier."

Jason looked up from his book, an eyebrow raised. "No, you're not."

"No, I'm not," Dick agreed, sitting beside his brother. "How could you not tell me?"

"I didn't tell the rest of the Bat-cult either. You're not special." Jason leaned back, carefully placing a bookmark in the book before putting it aside.

Dick took this as a sign that Jason wanted to talk. "Jaybird... I'm your big brother, you know I love you, right?"

Jason looked away, muttering something that sounded like a mix of "Fuck off" and "Yeah, I know."

"It's just... If you'd told me, yeah, I might have freaked out at first. But I just want you to be happy, in the end. And if you're happy with my exes..." Dick sighed. "I guess I'll just have to live with it."

Jason turned back to his brother, glaring slightly. "Stop calling them your exes. That's my girlfriend and boyfriend you're talking about."

Dick winced. "Yeah. Sorry, sorry, I just... Do you just have a thing for redheads? You had that schoolboy crush on Babs when you were, like, 13. You were dating Artemis of Bana-Mighdall. And now you're dating Roy and Kori."

Jason scoffed. "You're one to talk. You've dated Babs, Kori, Roy, Wally West... Do I really have to go on?"

Dick chuckled, laying an arm around Jason's shoulders. "Guess it runs in the family, huh?"

"We're adopted, asshole," Jason grumbled, but leaned into Dick's touch.

After a long beat of silence, Jason spoke up again. "I also dated Rose Wilson for a while. She is not a redhead."

An amused laugh escaped Dick, and he ruffled Jason's hair lovingly. "Yeah, yeah."